Stygian's Honor by Lora Leigh

pictures. The second was obviously an “after” version.
    Nothing could hold back the shudder that rushed up her spine at the changes in the boy to the man.
    Stone-cold eyes the color of living amber stared out from the photo paper with a brilliance that was almost terrifying when added to the Bengal stripes that crossed his face from his forehead, across his right eye, over the bridge of his nose and across his left cheek, over his jaw then around to the nape of his neck.
    Where it went from there she wasn’t certain.
    The savagery of the mark, the primal quality of his gaze and the inherent predatory intent would have been terrifying if it were in person rather than in a photo.
    “What does he have to do with this now?”
    “Gideon Cross is searching for those women the two girls became. His intent isn’t to stop by and say hello, Ms. Johnson,” Jonas warned her. “If you’ve followed the stories of Breed creation and their weaknesses, then I’m certain you’ve heard of psychotic emergent feral fever.”
    Liza nodded slowly.
    “Gideon is suspected of having been thrown into level-five feral fever by the Genetics Council’s experiments. And he’s searching for those two women because he believes one of them is responsible for it. He won’t bother questioning them. He’ll strike out at both. He will kill them. And he won’t care that they had nothing to do with his illness.”
    “Does one of them have anything to do with it?” she asked, her gaze lifting—not to Jonas but to the Breed behind him.
    “Stygian?” Jonas spoke softly.
    “Director?”
    “Do you want to answer Ms. Johnson’s question?”
    “She had nothing to do with it, Ms. Johnson,” Stygian answered. “Once feral fever has gone that far, nothing has any logic to it. She was there at the wrong place, at the wrong time, so he blames her for it. It’s that simple.”
    She wanted him to keep talking. The sound of his voice was a caress to her senses, and she didn’t want it to stop.
    Still, she shook her head, forcing her gaze back to Wyatt’s. “It doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know the girls, who they grew up to be or where they are. Neither do I have any information on the Breeds in those pictures. And even if I did, I doubt I would tell you, Mr. Wyatt.”
    She made certain the smile she gave him was just as mocking and confident as she could possibly make it.
    She didn’t trust him. She had no intention of attempting to trust him. She’d heard far too many stories of Wyatt’s games and attempts to interfere in the lives of those who came in contact with him.
    “I can see your popularity precedes you, Jonas.” Megan gave a light, easy laugh as Jonas pinned her with that odd, silvery gaze.
    “So it would seem,” Jonas drawled before turning back to Liza.
    She stared up at him, refusing to back down despite the trepidation she could feel tightening her stomach.
    “Can I leave now?” she asked.
    “Stygian.” Jonas’s voice was low as Liza looked over his shoulder once again only to have her gaze caught and held by the Breed watching her from behind the director.
    “Director,” he answered Wyatt.
    “Would you please escort Ms. Johnson home?”
    “With pleasure.”
    “Thank you.” Jonas was smirking now, and the sight of it had an edge of panic tightening her throat rather than generating trepidation in her stomach.
    Her gaze narrowed on him. He was up to something. She could just feel it.
    “Ms. Johnson.” Stygian stepped around Jonas, his powerful arm reaching out to indicate the door. “This way.”
    With pleasure.
    With one last wary glance at the supremely confident, satisfied look on the director’s face, Liza turned and made her way to the door.
    She could feel the big Breed behind her as she walked. Another Breed—this one she knew by the name of Rule Breaker—opened the door and stepped back.
    Nodding to him, she left quickly, eager to put this particular experience behind her, get home and